


Choral Confession

by Malachite_Knightess



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Vaginal Fingering, celebrity/secretary au, dorothea is a famous singer, no beta we die like Glenn, service top ingrid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23772760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malachite_Knightess/pseuds/Malachite_Knightess
Summary: Dorothea really, really wants to kiss her band's secretary. She writes a song about it, and then she gets her wish, and something more.AKAIngrid in a suit is everything I have ever needed and wanted
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	Choral Confession

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written smut in ages, so forgive me if this isn't exactly my best work! Nonetheless, i hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing! Kudos/comments are always appreciated : )

Dorothea Arnault was sound asleep. Sunlight filtered through the blinds of the hotel room, all bright and warm on Dorothea’s porcelain skin. She curled around her covers, mahogany-colored hair splayed across the quality bed sheets, as light snores drift from her throat. Unfortunately, she cannot sleep for much longer. A businesslike series of knocks on the door startle her from her rest, and she groans a little. Whether the groan was in response to the knocks, or just because she knows she has to get up now, even Dorothea herself didn’t know. Through the door, a muffled, light voice sounded.  


“Miss Arnault, you need to wake up now. It’s nearly ten-o’clock, and you have a performance today at one. Rehearsal is in just over an hour and a half, and the makeup crew tells me they want at least thirty minutes to get you ready to go onstage. I’ll have breakfast brought to your room in fifteen minutes. Please get dressed.”  
The footsteps receded from her door, rhythmic and formal. They're a telltale sign that Ingrid, her band's secretary, was the one behind the door. Of course, her voice was unmistakable as well, but those footsteps were practically knight-like in the way they marched quickly to their next destination.

Dorothea sighed, sitting up and raking a hand through her hair. Truly, she was a bit of a mess, but who isn’t, when they first wake up? She stretches, standing from her bed and walking to her suitcase, tucked into a corner, to put on today’s outfit. Naturally, she’d already chosen one, because there has never been a performance for which Dorothea Arnault was never prepared. Especially not this one. She quickly gets dressed, smoothing out the flowing, green dress that reaches down all the way to her ankles. The collar was cut just below her collarbone, enough to keep eyes on her, but not enough to give away more than she wanted to. It’s sleeveless, and she slips on several silver armbands and bracelets, and puts in a pair of hooped earrings. She seats herself in front of the mirror, going about brushing her hair, when she hears the same knock that woke her up this morning.

“Yes, Ingrid, come in.” Her own voice surprised her a little, in the way that someone who hasn’t spoken all day feels when they finally say something. Ingrid, a woman of shorter stature than Dorothea, but with a much more athletic build, stepped into the room. Her blonde hair was done up how it usually is, short and braided together on both sides to link behind her head, and held in place with a green ribbon on either side of her head, just behind her ears. The color complimented her verdant eyes nicely, and contrasted with the tight-fitting dark suit that she usually wore. She wore a light blue tie around her neck, striped diagonally with black and tucked into her blazer.

In her hands, Ingrid held a tray with a pair of plates, piled high with breakfast foods. One was notably more stocked than the other. There were also a pair of glasses, full of orange juice. She set the tray down on a nearby table, and Dorothea watched her in the mirror the whole way. Her eyes flicked down and up Ingrid’s form, and she couldn’t help the way her teeth worried her lower lip as she bit down to keep herself from doing or saying anything particularly stupid. She forced her eyes to return to her own face, putting on a normal expression again as she finished brushing her hair.

Dorothea took a seat at the table, smoothing down her dress.

“Thank you for bringing me breakfast, Ingrid.” Dorothea smiled at her, and her eyes didn’t miss the light flush that came across her cheeks. Ingrid cleared her throat, sitting down across from Dorothea, and becoming suddenly very interested in the food on her plate.

“You’re welcome, Miss Arnault.”

“Ingrid, honey, I’ve told you a hundred times to just call me Dorothea. I’m technically your employer, sure, but we’re good friends, aren’t we?” Ingrid nods, and a small smile crosses her lips.

“Perhaps you’re right, but I can’t help but feel indebted to you. Especially after that business with my father, and that terrible suitor…” Dorothea rolls her eyes at that, but the smile remained on her face, plain as day, and her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“I’ve already told you that we’re more than even for that. Especially after that wonderful ring you gave to me.”  
Ingrid’s face flushed completely at the mention of the ring, and Dorothea lifts her hand, turning it this way and that to admire it. It was a beautiful thing, polished silver and intricately styled. There were vines carved around the edges of it, and it was set with a teardrop-shaped emerald. It had been Ingrid’s grandmother’s, and in a show of apology, her father had given it to Ingrid, who had then gifted it to Dorothea.  
Dorothea had helped her drive away a particularly nasty man whom her father had tried to set her up with. Dorothea had apparently also interacted with the man before, and informed Ingrid how truly terrible he was. Dorothea used her status as a famous singer to publicize the facts about him, and utterly killed his reputation. It was a bit frightening to know the kind of power she had, but also undeniably attractive. Naturally, the sight of the ring on Dorothea’s finger was a point of pride for Ingrid; she wore it nearly every day. Hundreds of thousands of people had seen the ring on Dorothea’s finger, up on the stage, singing her heart out. Apparently, there was speculation that Dorothea was secretly engaged, but she either didn’t know about the rumors, or didn’t care about them.

"Hello? Earth to Ingrid, I asked you a question.” Dorothea said, sing-song. Ingrid shook herself out of her thoughts, giving Dorothea her attention once more.

“I apologize, Mi- Dorothea. I was lost in thought. Could you please repeat yourself?” Dorothea beamed when Ingrid said her first name, and hummed a little in satisfaction.

“I asked, are you going to be attending the show today? You’re usually there, but I asked Edie to get you a front-row seat for this one.” Ingrid nodded, smiling.

“Of course I’ll be there! I always love seeing you up on stage. Your performances are… something else.” The words came out of Ingrid’s mouth before she could think about them, and for a moment she could swear she saw Dorothea’s eyes widen in surprise. Her expression quickly returned to its usual sweet, slight smile, and the rest of breakfast was spent in a comfortable, lovely silence.

* * *

Dorothea was nervous to go onstage. She was sitting still, post rehearsal, as her makeup artist was putting the finishing touches on her look. She tapped her fingers anxiously on her knee, trying to think about anything but the performance. As the makeup artist finishes up her work, Dorothea looks in the mirror, sighing a little bit.

"You've got this. You're Dorothea Arnault, and one little performance isn't gonna be so bad. She's not _that_ dense. Ingrid will figure it out." She looks down, shaking away the jitters. When she looks up again, she sees her bandmate standing behind her, his short, dark hair covering one eye. Hubert clears his throat.

"Miss von Hresvelg has told me to inform you that we're on in exactly sixty seconds. It's time." He gives her a nod, and one of his sinister-looking smiles, as close as you could get to a well-wishing from Hubert, and he strides away in that calculated way of his. Dorothea stands, giving herself a light pair of claps to her face to amp herself up, and she follows him out onto the stage.

Ingrid fidgeted in her seat a little. It was almost time for Dorothea to go on, and she was a little nervous that there wasn't very much introduction this time. Something felt off, and she didn't know why. Before she had time to question it any further, however, she was snapped to attention by the click of drumsticks. They clicked one, two, three, four times, and then a chord was struck on an electric guitar. The lightshow began, just enough to show off the five figures, shrouded in darkness with their instruments. The chord was strummed again, and then a bassline started, a deep, satisfying series of notes in repetition, setting the stage for the other instruments. A series of notes were played on a synthesizer, and the drumsticks were snapped together three more times. The song began in full just as the lights shone directly on the group. Caspar, a rowdy man with a short, messy head of light blue hair was practically thrashing the drums as he played. There had been a few occasions where he snapped drumsticks mid-song from playing too hard. Petra was on keytar, her purple hair braided and trailing down her back. She was focused as the song began, but as time went on she would enjoy herself more and more, dancing around as she played. Hubert, in all his tall, dark, eerie glory strummed his bass guitar, fingers flying with perfect efficiency, supporting the song from below. Ferdinand, his long ginger hair tossed to and fro as he played his guitar with vigor. He could be seen trading looks with Hubert, as though it was a competition to be the better stringed musician. Finally, Dorothea, clutching the microphone stand as she sang. her voice was powerful, and commanded all the attention in the room, even as the crowd began cheering and yelling.

The song wasn't one that Ingrid had heard before, which was strange, because she attended most of the rehearsals with Dorothea. Not to say it wasn't good, because all of the band's songs were good. Ingrid found she liked it a lot. The chorus was unique, but catchy enough that she knew she'd be singing it in her shower a few days later. As the second verse began, Ingrid couldn't take her eyes off of Dorothea. Dorothea practically performed the next line at her, holding her hand directly out to the seat Ingrid was in and locking eyes with her.

_"Sweetheart, won't you be my knight in shining armor?  
I've been watching you now, god, you're such a charmer.  
And I wish you'd be mine, on my arm and my lips.  
Feel your teeth on my neck and your hands on my hips." _

Ingrid froze in her seat, unable to stop a flush from spreading across her cheeks all the way to her ears. She could feel her brain short-circuiting, and all she could do was smile and nod. There was no misconstruing Dorothea's words. They were for her. Only for her. Dorothea wanted her. Ingrid saw a grin split Dorothea's face with wild abandon, and she could _hear_ Dorothea smiling as she sang. The rest of the concert was a blur, as Ingrid lost herself in the band's performance. All she could look at was Dorothea. All she could hear was Dorothea, and her music. All she could feel was excitement, joy, and... maybe just a sprinkling of nervousness, but, hey, that was normal! As soon as the band left the stage, hours later, Ingrid bolted up from her seat, pushing past the crowd to make her way backstage. She flashed her ID at the security guards and practically ran to Dorothea.

As soon as Dorothea saw her, that huge grin spread across her face again, and Ingrid picked the singer up in her arms, twirling her around once, laughing all the way, before setting her down.

"How was I, Ingrid? Did you like the new song?" She wiggled her eyebrows a little, still breathing heavy from being picked up and performing. Ingrid flushed again, but she couldn't drop the stupid, happy smile on her face.

"You were... You sing... good. Yeah." Dorothea _laughed_ at her, and pulled Ingrid into a hug. She held her tightly, arms around her shoulders, and asked her, quiet enough that nobody else would hear,

"So... you did realize that I was singing about you, right? Do you want to..." Ingrid pulled back, and looked Dorothea in her eyes. Dorothea's emerald eyes were full of hope, and joy, but laced with an underlying worry, a fear. Ingrid couldn't bear looking at Dorothea being worried anymore. So, she did the only thing she could think of. She put a hand on the back of Dorothea's neck, closed her eyes, and kissed her.

Dorothea's lips were he softest thing Ingrid had ever felt. She basked in the feeling, running her hands through Dorothea's hair, taking in the warmth behind her clothes when she was so close to Ingrid like this. She kissed Dorothea with everything that she had, and Dorothea's tongue pressing against her bottom lip told her everything that she needed to know. She wished the moment could last forever, but eventually she pulled away to breathe, a flush across her cheeks, upon realizing that she just made out with Dorothea in the middle of the hall backstage.

"I... Really like you." Ingrid blurted, before she could stop herself. "You're beautiful, and talented, but more than that, you're kind, and sweet, and you've helped me in ways that you don't even realize. I... I want this. I want _you._ "

"I want you too, Ingrid." There was a much lighter blush on Dorothea's face, and she put a hand on Ingrid's cheek, rubbing it softly with her thumb as she smiled at her. "I mean, I just sang about you on stage in front of like, thousands of people. So, you'd better believe that I want to be with you. You're so wonderful, and lovely, and handsome." Ingrid could die right here, right now, and she would die the happiest woman on earth. She leaned in to kiss Dorothea again, but Dorothea giggled, putting a finger on Ingrid's lips.

"Let's take this somewhere a little more private, shall we?"  
Ingrid couldn't imagine saying anything but, 'yes'.

* * *

Ingrid drove the pair back to Dorothea's hotel room, Dorothea's hand on Ingrid's thigh the whole way. Well, at least until Ingrid nearly ran a red light after Dorothea leaned over and planted a kiss on Ingrid's cheek. After that debacle, Dorothea figured she should stop teasing her so much.

When they made it into Dorothea's room, the door had scarcely shut when Ingrid had Dorothea pressed up against a wall, hands on either side of Dorothea's head. Dorothea closed the distance between them, grabbing Ingrid's tie and tugging her forward. The sensation elicited a gasp from Ingrid, which was quickly covered up by Dorothea's lips on hers, her clever tongue probing into Ingrid's mouth. Dorothea felt like a lovesick teenager, all hormones and heartbeats as she lost herself in the sensation of kissing Ingrid. Lovely, handsome, adorable Ingrid, who she'd been pining after for weeks and weeks now. Ingrid's hands moved from the wall, down Dorothea's back, leaving a trail of heat wherever they went. They stilled on her hips, pulling Dorothea, as though she couldn't be close enough. Dorothea grabbed the back of Ingrid's head, pulling her back by her hair and scraping her bottom lip between her teeth. She looked down at Ingrid, arms around Ingrid's neck.

Ingrid’s eyes were dark with hunger as she gazed back up at Dorothea. Her lips, reddened with the way Dorothea had bitten them, were parted ever so slightly as she breathed in and out. The way she looked at Dorothea was full of adoration, certainly, but there was something more, there, just beneath that. It was as though she was laying eyes on her favorite food after starving for days, or on a soft, comfortable bed after being sleep deprived. Dorothea was someone that she had clearly been craving, wanting, yearning for, and now that she was there, in front of Ingrid, hers to take and be taken by, Ingrid couldn’t take her eyes off of her.

Dorothea let out a light giggle at the hungry expression.  


"Do you think we're moving a little fast, sweetheart?" Ingrid stilled with worry, but shook her head, against her better instincts.

"I... maybe. But I don't care. I've waited a long time for this... for you. If you want to stop, we can, but..."

"Goddess, no, please don't." Dorothea kissed her again, and Ingrid kissed her back, shifting her hands beneath Dorothea's thighs and lifting her up, back against the wall.

"Then I won't. Not as long as you want me." Ingrid ground her hips into Dorothea's, and she groaned at the friction. The heat between her thighs couldn't be ignored anymore, and after a few more kisses, she pulled back from Ingrid, speaking in between kisses.

"Bed." Another kiss. "Please." Ingrid obliged, pulling Dorothea's weight up against her, and carrying her to the bed. She set her down on her back, but followed her down, her knee between Dorothea's legs giving her the pressure she craves. Ingrid sat up, taking her tie off and throwing her blazer to some unimportant corner of the room. Her hands flew across the buttons on her shirt, and before long she'd thrown that away, too, and moved onto the rest of her clothing. Dorothea followed suit, sitting up to lift the dress over her head, and taking off her brassiere. She felt a little bare beneath Ingrid's stare, but imagined that Ingrid must feel the same way. Ingrid leaned down over Dorothea again, pressing kisses on her cheek, her neck, and the shell of her ear.

"You're gorgeous," she says, her voice low and husky. The tone sent a shiver down Dorothea's spine, and her hands found Ingrid's back as Ingrid cups her breast, fingers brushing over her nipple. Dorothea arches into her touch, all breathy and and needy. Her nails dig into Ingrid's skin the more she touches her, and it isn't long before she's too impatient. A whine left her throat, and thankfully, Ingrid caught on. She kissed a trail down her chest, and paused at her hips, biting down and leaving marks. Dorothea put a hand in Ingrid's hair, pushing her lower. She can feel Ingrid smile against her skin, and finally she gets to where Dorothea wants her. Ingrid pulls off the final piece of Dorothea's clothing, and presses a kiss to her clit. Dorothea shivered at the sensation, and this only encourages Ingrid, who presses a finger inside of Dorothea. Dorothea lets out a moan, nodding.

"Fuck, please, more. Curl your fingers as you go in, sweetheart." Ingrid followed Dorothea's instruction, putting another finger inside of her. She curls her fingers, and as soon as she hits _that_ spot, Dorothea writhed beneath her, gripping her hair tighter.

"Yes, yes, just like that, fuck, Ingrid..." Ingrid sped up a little, putting her mouth to work peppering marks all over the inside of Dorothea's thighs. Dorothea was a sweet, incoherent mess beneath her, and Ingrid has never found her so beautiful. Her rhythm stumbled a little as she gets lost in just _looking_ at Dorothea, and Dorothea tugs on her hair again, as though she's a horse and her hair is her reins. Ingrid catches herself, pushing deeper, harder, and faster. She can't take her eyes away from the songstress beneath her, and she can't believe how lucky she is in this particular moment. She put her lips back on Dorothea's clit, sucking on it and doing tight circles with her tongue around it. Ingrid felt like Dorothea was going to rip her scalp from her head, but she doesn't stop. Dorothea is singing for her now, a string of 'please', 'yes', 'good', and 'fuck'. It only takes a few more minutes before she can feel Dorothea clench around her fingers, and Ingrid works her through it, pumping her fingers just the way she was told.

"That's it, sweetheart, yes, good... girl!" With that last word out of her mouth, Ingrid kicks up the pace just a notch, and Dorothea orgasms, hands fumbling to grab onto any part of Ingrid she can, hips shaking and whines dripping from her throat like sweet honey. She rides out the last waves of pleasure on Ingrid's hand, and then pulls her closer, up towards her lips. She kisses Ingrid, who pulls her fingers out of her, and resting them on her hip. The kisses are slow and intent, and they make Ingrid feel loved. Dorothea pauses to breathe, looking Ingrid in the eye, all softness and tenderness in her expression.  
"Your turn? You did such a good job, darling." Ingrid smiled, pressing another kiss to Dorothea's lips.

"We've got all night."


End file.
